


two slow dancers, last ones out

by mistyheartrbs



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/F, Fix-It, Not Canon Compliant, did i like parts of endgame? yes! did i like the way they ended things with peggy? no!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyheartrbs/pseuds/mistyheartrbs
Summary: Peggy and Angie have something of a heart-to-heart in the midst of an argument.(contains Endgame spoilers, kind of)





	two slow dancers, last ones out

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i actually liked most of endgame (especially carol, the lesbian who was so powerful they could only have her there for like fifteen minutes or the movie would've been over in less than an hour) EXCEPT for the way they treated peggy, because god knows they had to screw over agent carter AGAIN three years after canceling it, because god knows he didn't have bucky back or anything, because peggy was totally just a love interest and not a woman with her own agency and career and life separate from steve!
> 
> and besides, i miss cartinelli.
> 
> you can listen to "it's been a long, long time" (the endgame ending song) or two slow dancers by mitski (which is where i got the title) while reading this, both fit

"Whaddaya _mean_ you're leaving again? You just got back from LA - gone for six months, might I add, total radio silence and then, what, you stick around for a few weeks and think it's totally okay to leave your roommate- friend behind?"

"It's not safe for you to be around me, and besides, I have a case to attend to," Peggy retorted in a huff as she flung any clothing she could find into a suitcase, as Angie tried to take them back out in a hurry. "I'm a spy, remember?"

"Yes, yes, you told me all about your secret agent business that's so secretive you made me sign a crap-ton of paperwork before you even told me what their coffeemaker looks like, how you're off savin' the world and all that, how you were buddies with Captain America before-"

"I knew Steve Rogers personally!" Peggy snapped, whirling around while clutching a bra in her hand like a weapon. Her voice was low, dangerous. Angie flinched. "Don't you dare mention him again." There was a pause, then, one of those silent moments that said the conversation could end there or it could drag itself past its natural lifespan. Angie took a deep breath.

"English, you don't have to do this alone."

"I do, though." Peggy set down the bra and seemed to sag, hanging her head. "You'll die, otherwise."

"I'm smart. I won't."

"You don't know that. I can't let anyone else get hurt."

"Wow, you really love lathering on this whole 'broody lonesome lady' thing, huh?" Angie leaned on the dresser, closing her eyes. Peggy knew she was trying to hit a nerve. "Like I'm some sorta liability." And she was succeeding. 

"People in my profession _die,_ Angie. I've explained this enough times I'd figured you understood that." Peggy stormed out of the bedroom into the living room, and Angie followed. 

"Yeah, and what if I'm left home alone without anyone to protect me, if you're so worried about my safety?" Angie yelled after her. "If you really think I can't protect myself. You've known me for years, now, and you know that's not true."

"Even the strongest people I knew left before I even got the chance to know them at all!" Peggy stopped frozen in her tracks, after that, staring wild-eyed at Angie and then slowly looking to the ground. 

"It's today, isn't it?" Angie murmured. "The day he . . . ?" Peggy nodded.

"I suppose anyone can be the love of your life if you only know them for a few months." Peggy scrunched her hand on the table, gripping a newspaper tight enough to make the veins pop. "I say in interviews that I would have married him when I never even knew his favorite color. I couldn't tell you what he was like growing up, or what he sounded like singing. He wouldn't have been able to say those things either." She leaned on it, then, sighed and put a finger to her forehead. "I must sound ridiculous." A silence hung between them.

"Your favorite color is red," Angie began, slowly. Peggy looked up. "You grew up in London, but your folks moved around town a lot so you never got too close with the neighborhood kids, 'specially because you'd beat them up if they acted mean. You sound like a dying cat when you sing but it's sweet, sorta, since you do it so rarely." 

"You're too kind for your own good." Peggy put a hand to her face and was surprised to find it come back wet. 

"Hey, English." Angie stepped closer, tentative. Peggy blinked again and again in quick succession, trying to keep the picture in front of her clear. She wanted to remember Angie like this, if the worst were to happen. "Peggy. I might not be much of a replacement for _Captain_ flippin' _America,_ but we have a record player and an open space, so if you'd have me, I can at least try to give you that dance."

Peggy didn't speak - her throat was too choked up to say anything at all - but she nodded, just a quick dip of her head, and Angie set the needle on the player as a slow song began to play. 

"I, erm, haven't danced with a woman before," Peggy whispered, taking Angie's hands into her own. Angie smiled, looking down at her feet. They were closer in height, now - Peggy was used to towering over her in heels, but here, barefoot, they were eye-to-eye. The directness of it all would have made some shiver. 

"Can't say the same for myself," Angie replied, a bit smugly. "Boarding school, y'know. Most of the gals were just using each other as stand-ins for boys, but . . ."

"It's hard not to step on your toes."

"I wouldn't mind." Angie twirled her, still keeping their hands intertwined. "It wouldn't hurt."

"No, I suppose not."

"You're not bad at this. You say you really haven't practiced?"

"I haven't."

"Well, maybe you've got a Broadway career in that future of yours yet."

"Don't count on it," Peggy chuckled. "I sound like a crow."

"Yeah, kinda."

"See, it's true!" Another twirl - breathless, almost, it made her feel lighthearted. Angie laughed, too. "Besides, I've got enough on my plate already, what with Howard's idea of an entire organization and what have you."

"Hmm, sure." Angie interlocked her fingers with Peggy's, pulled her close. It was intoxicating. "Tell me if you change your mind, I've got connections."

"I'm sure of it." Peggy's heart beat at a thousand kilometers an hour, threatening to jackhammer out of her chest. Angie tilted her head, her little waitress cap sliding to the side with it. She'd forgotten to take it off, in the midst of all of this. The realization of that made Peggy snort. 

"What, did I say something wrong?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Peggy snickered, holding a hand over her mouth because she'd composed herself perfectly in situations where dozens of men had their guns trained on her face but for whatever reason _this_ was what undid her, Angela Martinelli in the living room with her little waitress cap and her willingness to dance with a crying woman and the record, still spinning, still crooning _it's been a long, long time._ Of course _this_ would be when she lost her composure. "Quite the contrary."

"Anything to make you smile like that, English." They kept dancing, swaying, gentle. "Tell me about this Steve fella, then. Not the wacky propaganda version, either - guy must've been pretty special for you to miss him this much."

"We never knew each other that well, but Steve was brave. Kind-hearted. We respected each other. Oh, and he thought 'fondue' was code for sex."

"The cheese thing?" Angie cackled. "Seriously?"

"Yes! Oh, well, we can't have a conversation about this without you telling me about your own past, Miss Martinelli." Peggy dipped her, then, low enough to the ground and close enough together that the gravity rushed to her head. 

"Aw, seriously?"

"I told you mine, now let's get even."

"Fine. Y'know how it is for someone like me in these parts, I knew a string of gals at boarding school but most of 'em were just lookin' for a placeholder until they could land themselves husbands. It wasn't real for them, it was for me, lots of miscommunications, et cetera. I met this one girl, Susie, in college, we hit it off, she stayed longer than most, but we still broke it off in the end." Angie rattled off her love life like she was rattling off a laundry list. "Stayed friends, though. Last I heard she's workin' some club downtown."

"Really? You must introduce me sometime." Peggy smirked. Angie waved her off, a bit flustered. 

"Jealous?"

"Perhaps." The words were out of her mouth before she knew what to do with them. "You know I'm doing all of this to protect you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Angie's hands were soft, small, and they smelled like the powdery coffee they made at the Automat along with whatever lavender shampoo she used. "Doesn't make it hurt any less."

"It's a tiring job, but it's mine." Peggy closed her eyes and breathed her in. "I wouldn't trade it for the world, you know."

"I know." The song reached its crescendo. "It's okay to love again, Peggy. If you'd let me be there for you." 

"I would," Peggy said, and she tilted Angie's chin up to meet hers, and the kiss was- awkward, not movie-perfect, not in the slightest, it was trembling and hesitant and nervous, but it was _theirs_ and Angie couldn't stop smiling and Peggy was crying again and the record had faded out but they were still there, together, swaying just enough for it to be called a dance. 

Peggy felt her heart begin to tie itself back together again.

**Author's Note:**

> pretend i wrote the lyrics here
> 
> i miss you peggy


End file.
